There’s nothing left to do, you have no outs, no ace up your sleeve. Your back is against the wall.
You played your hand and you lost, huge.
You took every chance given to you, took every road left to travel.
Every bone in your body wants to rest, give up. Your feet ache with every step, legs tremble with every mile. Neck stiff from carrying your past, mind tired, heart frustrated, soul exhausted.
Nowhere left to turn, there’s only one real option: keep moving.
You don’t stop, can’t stop. To stop means defeat, to stop moving means death.
You can never be too tried to stop, not situation hopeless enough to keep from moving.
As long as your feet are still moving, there’s always a chance.
Always.
A Toast: To Pushing Through
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